I want my Armor back!
by TayaTheStrange
Summary: Arthur comes back from Avalon and finds himself not ready for the modern world.
1. Chapter 1

In the end Arthur´s return wasn´t as spectacular as Merlin had imagined for hundreds of years. Instead of seeing the _Once and Future King _stepping out of the Lake of Avalon bathed in bright light and with a gracefully waving cape Merlin found him soaked and half naked at the shore. Lying there, the face pressed into the sand, he looked more like a piece of flotsam than the majestic king he once had been. But that didn´t keep his heart from skipping a beat as he saw him again after an eternity of living alone.

When Arthur opened his eyes and caught a glimpse of Merlin, he wasn´t sure what had happened to him. The last he could remember was the face of his friend getting darker while the life was floating out of his body. And words he wasn´t able to say anymore. He´d died. Of that he could be sure.

Did Merlin revive him? Were they in Avalon? Or did Merlin follow him?

A certain fear started to rise in his chest and he had to let one hand slip into the back of Merlin´s neck to assure himself that this wasn´t a dream . The skin felt warm under his fingertips. His friend was breathing and the movement of his lips signaled Arthur that he was trying to tell him something. But his ears seemed not to be working well yet. As was his voice.

So he had to find another way to reply. With little strength he pulled his manservant's head down until their lips met. Arthur had always wondered what they would taste like. Right now they were salty due to the tears that were running down Merlin´s cheeks. Besides that they felt cushion-ly soft and warmed his own excellently. So he intensified the kiss.

Merlin himself had already noticed his king still not having recovered full consciousness to this world. So he tried to wake his mind with cozy words which were disturbed as he felt this familiar touch in his neck. It brought tears to his eyes. Arthur's last gesture to him before he had...

"Arthur, can you hear m-" The rest of the words were muffled by a pair of gorgeous and cool lips shutting his own. After a short moment of confusion Merlin felt a wave of want roll over him and he forgot his worries and all the questions he was going to ask. Arthur was here now. Was his now. Finally.

/Sorry, Gwen, but it's my turn./

The king slid his other arm around his manservant's back and rolled them over. His weight pressed on the other one's slim body he pushed his tongue into Merlin's mouth to finally taste all and everything of him. Merlin was completely disarmed. His thoughts blurred while his groin started to rub against Arthur's. A surprised moan left their throats and they broke away from each other. Breathing hastily the king stared down at the man in his arms, at his flushed lips and cheeks. No word was spoken between them for some time as they were just listening to the other one catching his breath.

Only slowly Merlin began to notice how the coldness from the wet ground was seeping into his clothes and he became aware that Arthur still was soaked and only dressed with some pretty thin

linen trousers.

"Sire, I think you should get dried and dressed."

Arthur's hearing seemed to have returned. At least he dropped his head to look at himself.

"You may be right..." He answered and with these words they arose shakily.

Merlin pulled a towel out of his backpack and handed it to his king who gave the thing a skeptical look but started to dry his slightly shivering body with it a few seconds later while curiously observing the other things his friend was dragging out of his bag.

"What is this?" He asked by taking the boxer shorts into one hand.

"Underwear."

"No, I mean all of it."

"Your clothes. I had to guess your size by modern standards...and after being - uhm - dead in a lake for a few hundred years but...they should fit."

"My size by modern what?" Arthur's eyes widened. "I should wear these?"

Merlin smiled a little irritated. "Yes?"

"No! This stuff? What is this supposed to be anyway?" Arthur unfolded the hoodie. "It´s as thick as a jacket but closed in the front like a shirt and got a hood like a cloak. And this fabric...did you make it with magic?"

Merlin started to laugh madly and got shot an angry look. He tried to pull himself together.

"No, Sire. This is how clothing looks like today. You won't get anything different."

"No way! Forget it! I'm not going to wear these. Where's my armor?"

As an answer Merlin pointed to the lake. "Still in Avalon, it appears."

"So, I'll go back."

"What?!" Unbelievingly he watched how his king turned around and started stumping into the water. "Sire, don't be ridiculous. You can't go back." But he was ignored. "Fuck, this can't be happening...Arthur, damn it, come back!" he shouted angrily. Uncontrollably his magic acted on it´s own. It grabbed the king and dragged him back to the shore.

"Merlin!"

"What?", came it reproachfully from his manservant's lips.

"How dare you use your magic on me? I am your KING!"

"I have SWORN to protect you. Even if that includes your own stupidity." These words resulted in a sulking look and a pair of crossed arms. Without digging deeper into the topic, Merlin yanked the hoodie over Arthur's head and pulled it down in one fast movement what brought him a yell of protest.

"No, I don't want that!", screamed his friend another time but Merlin was relentless. They began to stumble across the shore in a grim fight which almost ended in a royal tantrum as Arthur's arms got caught in the fabric.

"Damn it! Don't be such a clot-pole!"

"Stop calling me that! This is no wardrobe for a king! I want my armor back!"

"It'd be useless! Nobody wears it these days!"

"How's that even possible?!"

At last Merlin won and pulled the fabric over Arthur's hips. Their hair was a complete mess and they looked at each other exhausted.

"So, what do you think?"

Arthur plucked disapprovingly at the edges of the sweatshirt but he nodded slowly.

"Actually quite comfortable."

"Great." Merlin answered. "Let's move on to the bottom." He said grabbing the boxers with a grin. Arthur´s expression was priceless.

In the end the not-that-young-anymore sorcerer had to admit the trouble to get Arthur in modern clothing paid off well. His king in slightly too tight jeans was something he'd wait another hundred years for to see.


	2. Chapter 2

It could´ve been worse.

It could´ve been much worse.

Merlin repeated the words again and again while he fumbled his keys into the lock.

The car-ride to his flat went remarkably well. At least after the first 30 minutes in which he tried to make Arthur understand that the metal carriage was no demon posessed death-trap. After he´d started the car his king was clawing the seat while his face was painted in pure horror. An irreplacable sight. And it got better when they started moving.

"Merlin, what´s happening?!" Arthur´d screamed, arms wound around his backrest.

"We´re driving, my lord." The servant´s plain answer had been while he couldn´t get the smug grin off his face.

"Yes, I can see that! But how!? There´s no horse. Are you wielding this with magic? Is this the state of things in these times?"

And like this he´d ranted on for the rest of the ride. Even after Merlin´d explained to him that no magic was involved he´d shout everytime another car was crossing their path:

"There´s another one! Oh my god, they´re everywhere!"

When they reached the inner city Arthur´s chatter climbed new hights. The sight of all the huge buildings and the crowd filling the streets were beyond everything he´d been used to in Camelot. But it took him just a few minutes to get over the shock and his mouth wouldn´t stop babbling from then on.

"Merlin, do you see that?! It´s as huge as Camelot! How did they buildt it? Are nobles living here? Oh Merlin, look how ridiculous everyone looks. Why would people wear this stuff? They look so unhappy...don´t they know their king has returned?"

Merlin could barely hold himself back from smashing his head into the wheel.

"Arthur, please, I have to concentrate."

But it was of no use.

When they finally stepped into the apartment block Merlin had been living in for nearly 2 years now he´d already thought them safe. Without giving it a second thought he pulled Arthur into the elevator and pushed the button for the 8th floor. The king was to confused about the shiny broomcupboard to ask any questions at first. But when he noticed a movement behind his back, he turned around fear flickering in his eyes.

"Merlin, watch out!" He´d screamed and tried to overpower the closing doors. Groaningly he´d struggled to push them open, while Merlin was holding out in the back. Perplexed.

"There´s no exit. It´s a trap!"

"My Lord, there is no-"

"Step back." Arthur gave up. The elevator doors closed and it began to rise. The feeling of movement without a visual explanation brought panic upon him. He pushed his servant into a corner, arms flung tight around him.

"Arthur-"

"I know. You have nothing to fear. Whereever this thing´s taking us, I´ll protect you."

Merlin´d rolled his eyes in annoyance of that heroic behavior. But he´d let Arthur have his way.

Yes, it could´ve been worse. Instead he was allowed to feel those arms around his body again. For the first time could let himself be protected against a thread, he knew, wasn´t deadly.


	3. Chapter 3

When Merlin came back to the bathroom after he'd grabbed some fresh towels from the bedroom drawer he froze in the door frame to be the witness of a certainly fascinating spectacle. The once and future king of Camelot who let himself never get excited about circus folk with all their artistic entertainment was now going berserk by twisting taps and watching the water emerge, splashing it everywhere in the prozess. Moving through the small room he'd turn it on and off like a mad man being overjoyed by increasing or lessening the flow without any effort.

„This is significant!" Arthur shouted observing the steady stream coming from the sink tap then turning around to face his former manservant to give him one of these wide innocent smiles he used to wear more often when he was younger. „There is water just like that. And than there is non. You don't want to tell me again this has nothing to do with sorcery."

Merlin gave his friend a fond smile that turned into a little smirk after he heard that for the thousandth time today. Meanwhile the ladder was approaching the shower.

„Tell me, Merlin, where does the water come from?"

„Ahm...er...from the pipes."

„Pipes? Whatever these are...and where do the 'pipes' get it from?"

Merlin opened his mouth and shut it again in confusion. Now that he thought about it he noticed he'd never really known. The achievements and inventions of the modern world where numberless, it'd be completely impossible to learn their every function and purpose.

„Well, ahm...where the pipes get it from...I guess..."

One of Arthur's eyebrows moved up sceptically.

„So it's magical after all..."

The warlock wanted to object but right in that second his king stepped into the shower turning the tap without thinking.

„No, Arthur, don't-!"

A surprised shriek left Arthur's mouth as he tried to escape the icecold splash from above by flinging his arms around in the small cabin stumbeling backwards. Merlin saw him fall before it happned. With one hand oustreched in front of him he sent a flash of raw magic in his friend's direction keeping him from hitting the tiled floor. Everything went quiet besides the water pouring from the showerhead. The once and future king had squeezed his eyes shut in shock and was now popping one eyelid open to find out why the expected painful crash wasn't coming.

„This, my Lord, is sorcery." Was Merlin's last comment on the whole matter. He let Arthur sink gently to the floor and decided to pour his soaked friend a bath. After being dead for thousand years he needed one anyways.

About half an hour later Arthur had gotten over the fact that Merlin hadn't to heat water over a fire to raise it's temperature but that the walls were somehow able to produce it and started to enjoy his bath finally. His former servant just made his way back from his room where he'd fetched some clothes for his king to change into when the sight of him in the bathtub caught his attention at the door. Arthur's skin, usually pure and pale, was highlighted with certain shades of pink while the steam encircling him made him look damp and painted his bright hair in a somewhat darker colour. Merlin almost forgot how to breath when the memories hit him out of nowhere.

Arthur after battle. Arthur after a hunting trip. Arthur after knight-training. His body covered in sweat, bangs sticking to his forhead, cheeks flushed in the adrenalin rush. Pictures that made the sorcerer's heart race. And there he was, his king, head tilted backwards, eyes closed, the muscular chest rising and falling slowly and hypnotically. Merlin was drawn to this view. Drank it, swallowed it, took it in so deeply that it seemed he could never get out of it again. Just in this second Arthur's eyelids snapped open and he turned around to let his intense blue eyes, now somehow blurry with something Merlin couldn't name, settle down on his friend's fragile figure holding the clothes tight in both hands. A gorgeous smile appeared on his face and he held his hand out.

„Come here." Was all he said and it made Merlin blush like a teenage girl. The clothes dropped and Arthur chuckled lightly. „Merlin, don't be such a girl. Just get in the tub."

The sorcerer swallowed hard while picking up shirt and trousers to throw them over the laundry basket. With slightly shaking hands he pulled the T-shirt over his head and let it fall to the floor to start fumbling with his jeans. When he was about to push them down he hesitated. Merlin could feel Arthur's intense stare on his body and he looked up to find him watching his every move. Pleased.

„Stop staring." He mumbled.

„Am I embarrassing you?"

„Yes."

Arthur laughed.

„But how? I've seen you naked more than once."

„But you never watched me strip." Merlin answered sullen.

„And how do you know that?"

The question made him blush even deeper and Merlin had to bite his lips to hold back a scream of frustration.

„So you did."

„Maybe...but that's not the point. Come on, strip and get in here."

When Merlin didn't move the king couldn't hold back an annoyed sigh.

„Please. You must be cold too and I don't want you to get sick and..." He paused.

„And what?" Merlin asked with something diffrent from curiosity. Was it hope?

„And I've been seperated from you for an eternity so would you, by all deities on this earth, get out of your clothes now and come to me so I can feel you and be sure, this isn't just a dream?"

That was all it took to make him almost jump out of his trousers and into the tub, into Arthur's arms. His king's eyes were downcast, a certain red in his cheeks that definitly wasn't created by the warm water which was surrounding them. Merlin sank into another tight embrace of strong arms holding him against the broad chest he had seen so often while getting Arthur dressed or treating his wounds. But none of his phantasies were needed this moment. Not when he had the real thing right in front of him. And while he could feel soft kisses being pressed in his hair and gentle hands caressing his skin he could not care less about the centuries he'd spent waiting for this.


End file.
